


(We Are Not) Breeding Stock and Battle Fodder

by redcandle17



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, F/M, Slit Lives, quid pro quo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exchange of sex for violence on behalf of the defenseless could become so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(We Are Not) Breeding Stock and Battle Fodder

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the kink meme prompt "Slit lives AU. They need his help with something but he's not cooperating and they don't have time to persuade him or find someone else. Toast, figuring it can't be any worse than being raped by Joe, offers to let Slit do whatever he wants to her in exchange for his help."

Furiosa is out on a trade run to Gas Town; the Vuvalini gone with her. The Sisters are in charge of the Citadel - nominally at least. They quickly discover the limit of their power when Buzzards are spotted approaching the Citadel. 

The War Boys refuse to go fight them off. They’re a sulky bunch now that so many changes have been forced on them. They’re not happy about not being allowed to go raiding anymore and apparently they’ve decided to show their displeasure by being contrary. 

“They can’t threaten the Citadel,” one of them says, looking out at the dust stirred up by the spiked Buzzard vehicles and spitting contemptuously. “Let them buzz around down there all they want.”

“They’re going to rob the Wretched and those poor people have little enough as is!”

“They’re going to take them away as captives.”

A War Boy scoffs. “So? Who cares about them?”

“Those could be _your parents_ ,” Capable pleas. 

Toast knows that was a misstep. The War Boys hate being reminded of their origins. As far as they’re concerned, they sprang into being at Joe’s will. 

The big one with the metal staples holding his face together crosses his arms over his chest and smirks. “Furiosa said to protect the Citadel. She didn’t say nothing about protecting Wretched filth.” 

Most of the War Boys left are the ones who were too sick to join Joe’s pursuit and boys barely Cheedo’s age who’ve just been promoted up from Pups. Metal-face is one of the few older, experienced ones who are in prime condition for war. Slit, his name is Slit. Capable had heard he used to be Nux’s lancer and had tried to befriend him. It hadn’t gone well. 

Toast notes the body language of the War Boys, the way they’ve positioned themselves and the subtle looks they exchange. Slit is their real leader, not the War Boy Furiosa had named their chief. 

She has to make a decision quickly. She glances down at the Wretched. Capable was once one of them. Her own people hadn’t been much different either. Their lives has been a continuing stream of suffering. She can’t let them suffer any more if she can do anything to stop it. 

She’s seen the way the War Boys leer at her and her sisters, overheard the lewd remarks about Capable and her grief for Nux. What Toast is considering can’t be any worse than the things Joe did to her. 

“May I speak with you alone?” she says to Slit.

The Dag and Cheedo look surprised and Capable looks worried. “It’ll be okay,” she whispers to them. 

The nearest private spot is a niche meant to be a lookout post. It’s unmanned currently, and from it Toast can see the Buzzards drawing nearer. It keeps her resolve from faltering. 

“I’ll let you do whatever you want with me if you go stop the Buzzards from attacking those poor people.”

He laughs. It’s not a nice laugh. “Yeah, okay,” he says. 

“We have a deal?”

His permanent grin grows wider. “I swear by Holy V8.”

Toast has to remind herself to breathe. She didn’t expect to feel this sick. It won’t be anything she hasn’t endured before, not unless he’s extraordinarily creative and she doubts he is. “When you get back…”

He shakes his head. “No, oh, no. What’s to stop you from refusing then? I get to do you now and do you again when I’m done killing Buzzards.” 

Toast knows Angharad sometimes did things to make Joe happy so he’d go easier on the rest of them, though Angharad never talked about it, would never have wanted them to feel beholden to her. It’s Toast’s turn to sacrifice now.

“Okay.” Her voice sounds far away to her own ears. 

“How about you suck my cock now and I’ll fuck you proper when I get back?”

It’s almost a relief. Joe never made her suck his cock so there are no bad memories associated with the act. Toast sinks to her knees in front of Slit without hesitation. 

She can’t figure out how to open the complicated buckle on his belt. He swats her hands away impatiently and undoes his pants himself. She doesn’t even want to imagine the look that must be on his face as he holds his cock out to her. She looks steadfastly ahead as she takes the tip into her mouth and sucks.

He’s hard within moments. Toast had liked to lick the length teasingly whenever she’d done this for men of her own choosing. But her goal is to make Slit come as fast as possible, so she just moves her mouth up and down his cock, simple and straightforward. 

She swallows out of habit when he comes. She’s never minded that part. 

Slit is looking dazed when Toast rises to her feet. He tucks himself back into his pants and it takes him two tries to successfully buckle his belt.

The Buzzards are so close now. “They’re almost here,” she urges Slit. 

“Yeah, gonna take care of them,” he mumbles, stumbling off. 

Toast is almost amused. She must be better than she thought, or he’s had some lousy partners. But that’s just it, isn’t it? He hasn’t had partners - just captives to rape. That puts her in a bleak mood even when she rejoins the others. 

“They’ve gone to fight the Buzzards,” Cheedo says. 

“What did you say to him?” Capable asks. The way she’s looking at Toast, Toast suspects she already has an idea of what happened.

“We reached an agreement,” she answers vaguely. 

The Dag gives her a look that implies she, too, suspects what sort of agreement it was. 

The War Pups have gathered around them to watch the fighting below and cheer their older brothers. Toast pets one of them to calm her nerves. 

The Buzzards outnumber their War Boys, but the Buzzards aren’t suicidal. _Kamicrazy_ , that’s what the War Boys call themselves. They do things no person with a sense of self-preservation would do. It’s always horrified Toast how little value they’ve been taught to have for their lives, but today their recklessness saves the Wretched. 

The would-be raiders retreat, pursued by War Boys hurling explosive lances. One of the lancers appears to turn and look up to the top of the Citadel. Toast has a feeling that it’s him, Slit, looking to her for acknowledgment. Yes, he’s kept his end of the deal. She’ll keep hers too. 

 

The War Boys are in high spirits when they come back up into the Citadel. They enjoyed the skirmish. She realizes that was their idea of _fun_. But at least none of them are dead and their wounds are minor. 

Capable gives them water, and the Pups crowd around to tell them how shiny and chrome they are. The Dag and Cheedo have disappeared, and Toast can’t fault them for it. Cheedo gets afraid when they’re revved up like this, perhaps rightfully so. 

Toast doesn’t think they’d actually harm Capable, at least not surrounded by little Pups who adore her, but she presses her own loaded weapon into Capable’s hand, just in case. And then there’s nothing to do but what she agreed to do. 

There’s no way she’s going down to the War Boys’ barracks, and she doesn’t want this happening in her bedroom. But one level below the Dome are the quarters that used to house the Imperators. They’re mostly empty now. 

Slit follows her in silence. Toast had expected bragging about his battle prowess or vulgar talk of what he intended to do to her. The silence is disquieting. How do you make small talk with the man who’s about to rape you, she wonders. But that’s unfair when she was the one to offer her body to him. 

“It’s dark,” he complains, when she pushes open a door. “Want to see you.”

Toast would prefer darkness to hide in so she won’t have to work hard to keep her composure. But she agreed to give him what he wants, so she finds a lamp and lights it before closing the door. 

Slit tugs at her cropped tunic and slides a finger through a belt loop on the pants she’d acquired from a Pup. “Take these off.” 

Toast pulls the tunic over her head and tosses it aside. She slides her pants down her legs and steps out of them. She removes her underwear too. No sense in being coy. 

“Get on the bed.”

“How?” She clarifies, “How do you want me?”

Slit looks surprised, then delighted, as if he hadn’t considered there was more than one possibility. “However you want. For now.”

Toast doesn’t want him behind her, doesn’t want to give him any ideas that might not have already occurred to him. She arranges herself on her back, arms at her sides and legs slightly apart. 

She looks off in the other direction as he crawls onto the bed. He touches her breasts, pinches her nipples to make them peak. She wonders if this is the first time he’s been with a woman without another War Boy waiting for his turn. Probably. 

His hand burrows between her thighs and he sticks a thick finger up her cunt. “Ace said you breeders get lubed up on your own,” he says, sounding disappointed. 

Toast turns her head to stare at him. He’s surprised to find her dry? He really does know nothing about women. She doesn’t even bother correcting him for referring to her as a breeder. Right now she is a breeder. And all he is, is battle fodder. 

“We do,” she replies. “But you’ve got to help.” If she knew more about the inner workings of cars, she could probably put it in a way he’d understand. But she doesn’t. “Just keep touching me. Don’t be in a hurry to stick your cock in. You can take as long as you want.” 

It’s a little appealing the way he puts the finger he takes out of her into his mouth. She considers suggesting… But, no, he’s not going to want to do that. She is here for his pleasure, not the other way around. 

He goes back to playing with her breasts. This time he uses his mouth, nuzzling and licking what seems like her whole chest before sucking at her nipples. She’s not surprised when the biting starts, so she manages to keep from crying out. But then he bites much harder than she’s willing to tolerate. 

She yanks his head up and she intends to ask if he thinks he’s the People Eater, but he grabs her wrists and pins them down. He turns his head, and maybe it’s the sudden rush of fear making her more sensitive, but something about the way his mouth moves against the pulse point of her throat feels much, much better than it ought to and she gives a little sigh before she can stop herself. 

“Barely touched you that time.” He sounds amazed. 

He nuzzles her neck again, and Toast keeps silent, but she can’t control the change in her breathing. Her body hadn’t reacted to his earlier attention to her breasts; it’d been as if her nerves had been shut off. But these too-light touches spark her body on again. 

She tries to pull her hands free, but he’s holding them down with weight and strength far greater than hers. He licks the curve of her neck, from shoulder to ear. Kisses behind her ear. Toast doesn’t want gentle from him; it feels wrong. 

“I change my mind. Let me up.”

His breath is hot in her ear. “No.”

Toast tries to struggle, but she’s really in no position for it. Her wriggling beneath him only makes Slit laugh. He licks the corner of her mouth and Toast is ready to bite him if he tries to kiss her, but he ducks his head and rubs his metal-studded cheek against her breasts. 

“Please, Slit…”

“Toast the Knowing. Nobody ever said why they call you ‘the knowing’. What do you know?”

She can’t answer because he’s started sucking one of her nipples and, fuck, how could she not have felt this before? Every tug of his mouth sends a jolt of pleasure to her cunt. 

He transfers one of her wrists to his other hand and Toast tries to wrench free, but his hands are easily big enough for one to hold both of her wrists firmly. His newly free hand roams down her side and across her hips, caresses the inside of her thigh. His fingers fumble at her cunt and it’s clear he has no idea what he’s doing, but it’s been so long since anyone but herself has touched her there without evil intent that it feels good nonetheless. 

“You’re lubed up good. Ace said gentle would do it, but I didn’t believe him. Thought it’d be boring.” He puts his lips to her neck, at almost the same spot that started this. “It’s not boring.” His tone makes it sound like a confession. “It’s chrome, so chrome. _You’re_ chrome.”

There’s no reason what he says should please her. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. Toast desperately tries to struggle anew but it’s as futile as before. And yet when he finally kisses her, she forgets to bite him. 

He lets go of her wrists so he can slide his hands under her thighs and tilt her hips up. He’s going to fuck her now and she isn’t even trying to stop him. It’s too late for that. She’s so wet that his cock slides into her smoothly in one deep thrust. 

He isn’t gentle anymore, but he’s not rough either. It’s just hard enough and just fast enough. Exactly right. Or maybe she just thinks so because it’s been so long since she’s enjoyed being fucked. 

She covers her mouth and bites down on her fingers when he makes her come. But she knows that while she might have managed to keep quiet, there’s no way he could have missed her cunt clenching down on him. However it seems he doesn’t know what it meant. 

“Do that again,” he demands.

Toast can’t help smiling. “You’re not _that_ good.”

He pulls her into his arms and rolls onto his side after he comes. “So chrome. Wanna have you again. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll kill every last Buzzard. Do anything.” All of this is punctuated by kisses to her forehead and hair. 

Toast is surprised by his behavior at first. Then she realizes he’s never had mutually pleasurable sex before and isn’t familiar with the warmth it makes you feel towards your partner, how it can make you say things and promise things you might regret later. 

Of course, not all pledges have to be proven lies and not all promises have to be broken. Maybe she can use this for the good of the Citadel and the Wretched and her sisters and for Slit’s own good too. 

He’s young and strong and she has no doubt he’ll be ready to go again soon. She strokes one of the battle scars on his chest and smiles at him. “You can have me again, but you’ll owe me.”

“Anything,” he repeats. 

This time she is the one to kiss him. _Anything_ has so many possibilities.


End file.
